My Cat in the Back - A Midnight Tale

I couldn’t believe my ears. Then I heard it again; it was my cat.  There’s nothing too strange about hearing him; except that he NEVER comes in the back of the house. Well, almost never; at least not for about 3 years now. And, he has a good reason.

It was almost 3 years ago that Midnight took his celebrated solo flight attached to the talons of a local hawk. The backyard at that time was not as well developed as it is now, and many of the neighbors hadn’t even planted a tree or erected a fence yet. So, the back was basically on long open field, long enough to land a small plane on. This is exactly what the hawk must have thought when he swooped down and grabbed Midnight.

Midnight has always been well fed, in spite of his somewhat haggard appearance. He has always gotten his tuna twice daily and some dry food is always in the bowl on the porch for him, along with his water. So he has never really been a lightweight. This point was proved when the hawk was forced to abandon his dinner about 3 houses down and 20 feet up. This meant that Midnight was about to go down 20 feet. It’s all relative to where you are at the moment.

So, down he came with a torn ear; the last grasp of the hawk’s talons desperately trying to hold on to his dinner. And, until the other evening, Midnight has refused to go back there again. This is why I was so surprised to hear his distinctive meow coming from beneath an old picnic bench which Sue uses to pot her plants.

He came out when I went to him, but he wasn't keen on hanging around for long. He was there on a mission. He usually comes home for dinner at about 5 o’clock. It was pushing 7 when he finally showed up looking for his tuna. So, he came around the house and caught my ear. Then we both walked back up front for his dinner. But as we crossed the back yard I did notice that he stuck awfully close to both the house and me.

Here is a song by Steve Earle which is probably pretty close to how the hawk feels when he’s up there. It’s from the 2008 album “Washington Square Serenade” by Steve Earle. Midnight generally likes his stuff, just not this song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAmdOPCPu3A

Non Aggressive Cats - An Absurd Notion

Last week I read something so absurd that I am afraid to pass it on lest I incur the wrath of those who love cats; the animals, not the show. The article in question here was located in my local newspaper on the science page, if that tells you anything.

Basically speaking the article came to the conclusion that cats see human beings as “non-aggressive cats” and show that affection by rubbing against you to clean themselves; as they might with another cat; or the posture of their tails. Rubbish.

There is no way my cat considers me to be anything other than an upright, knuckle dragging, mouth breathing, possessor of opposable thumbs who lives in a heated home and drives a car far, far away to unknown locations, in order to get cans of tuna fish, which I then proceed to open with those incredible thumbs of mine to feed him with.

Anything else is mere conjecture, or simply rubbish. In addition, Midnight feels that it may be actionable.

New Car, Fording a Stream, Graveyard and the Cat

Old cars; like people; wear out with age, necessitating our looking for a new car. Or, to be more accurate; a new used car to fit our budget. We picked up this incredibly clean and rec-conditioned Toyota Corolla, in large part because it felt so familiar to us from the moment we sat in it. We have owned Toyota's for many years, and even with the occasional problem, have found them to be reliable

Now, when road testing a new car; used or otherwise; it is important to learn the limitations of your machine. So, to that end, we drove to Chapel Hill; which is about 2 hours away; to see our daughter and ford a stream. It did seem a bit ironic to “ford” a stream in a Japanese car, but it was a pretty day with just a bit of snow left over on some of the grassy areas making the day seem a little more special.

The stream is located just near this gravesite, which is the resting place for the original Morgan and Mason families. I wasn’t really paying attention to the specifics of the place, so I don’t know who they were. The magnolias were fresh and crisp, as they always are in North Carolina at this time of year. They are such stately trees, and I couldn’t help but think about those who lie beneath the ground, and wonder if they had become part of those trees. That’s where I want to go when my time comes. To become part of a tree seems a fitting way to leave something positive and alive behind when you have passed on. In a way, it’s a form of immortality, standing with leafy arms outstretched, providing shade and fragrant blossoms for the living.

Meantime; back home; the cat waits, sitting in the flower pot on our neighbor’s porch, watching and waiting for our return home. He worries about us, he cares about us, he frets when we are late. He wants his tuna fish.

Midnight - The Community Cat

We have grown accustomed to feeding the community cat, "Midnight", aka "Meow", and have reported here on his wanderings before. Along with Sue and I, our neighbors have been pretty good at letting Midnight come and go wherever, and whenever, it pleases him. He just doesn't get to live indoors. C'est la vie. In return though, he has a sense of independence which is unknown to all of the other "house cats" in the neighborhood; you know the type; the ones with the cute little "cat" doors on the back porch. They don't have to worry about where their next meal is coming from. They have it made, and they know it, too.

Midnight, on the other hand, has no escape door, no refuge; save for the few wits he does seem to possess; and yet he has managed to survive the winter relatively unscathed. He has left our garage now, with its heating pad and blanket, opting instead for our neighbor Linda's wicker front porch sofa. And now, he has stumped us all by taking his afternoon "cat naps" in her earth filled pot, which sits next to the sofa. We can only surmise that after watching the birds nesting, his paternal instincts have kicked in, and he is patiently "nesting" on his own, just as they do. They sit for a few days, and when they get up, little birds fly out, so why not kittens? It sounds stupid, I know. But, absent any other explanation I'm going with this one for now. I'll let you know what happens, or not, as soon as it does, or doesn't.